


Seven Miles

by xSparklingRavenx



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Cars, Gen, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-04
Updated: 2015-03-04
Packaged: 2018-03-16 08:38:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,894
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3481589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xSparklingRavenx/pseuds/xSparklingRavenx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The car breaks down, Prompto has used up all the remaining battery on the phone, and the nearest petrol station is seven miles away.</p><p>Ignis is not amused.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Seven Miles

**Author's Note:**

> HAPPY BIRTHDAY CAROLINE this actually was fairly hard to write, as my style isn't usually humour...I tried my hardest though! Thank you Maya for betaing! Even after checking it over several times, I still feel like there's something off...maybe I'm seeing things? Or maybe it's because we have not much info on the character's personalities, so I didn't have a main guideline.
> 
> But here's the story Cazza! I went a lot more upbeat after last year's morbid Bioshock fic. I hope you like it!

The car sputters to an unsuspecting stop seven miles away from the nearest petrol station and no amount of Ignis turning the key in the engine will get it to start up again. It’s only after turning the key no less than five times with Prompto leaning obnoxiously over him that he comes to three horrifying conclusions.

The first is that they’re stranded seven miles away from Cidney with no way of getting back.

The second is that he is a royal advisor and not a mechanic.

The third and final conclusion Ignis comes to is that he’s stuck out here, in the middle of nowhere, with only Prompto, Gladiolus and a sleeping prince in the backseat for company.

The sun has barely risen and this day is already turning to out to be bloody terrible. “Still not working?” Prompto asks cheerfully, his joyous demeanour not dampened in the slightest. He’s practically in Ignis’s lap at this point, turning the key experimentally and not getting any better of a result than before “Aw…now what do we do?”

Gladiolus leans forward into the front, his body filling up the entirety of Ignis’s peripheral vision. “We’re gonna clog up the roads unless we start moving soon,” he says, gesturing to the empty road before them. “Think you can get this thing moving before his Highness wakes up?”

Maybe, if he had been trained in engineering instead of say, advisory, but Ignis doesn’t say that. Instead, he turns the key once more, praying to the crystal that the engine will bring itself back from the dead. Prompto holds his breath, Gladiolus leans further forward, Noctis sleeps on – and Ignis’s prayer goes unanswered.

He hits the steering wheel in a brief moment of uncontrolled anger and somehow he still has enough luck to not set the airbag off. “I don’t believe it,” he mutters under his breath. “I don’t believe it.”

“I think Ignis is broken,” Prompto says as he turns to face Gladiolus. “He’s repeating himself.”

Privately Ignis thinks that Prompto should start keeping his mouth shut or he’s going break _him._ Making him sit in the front seat had seemed like such a good idea at the beginning of this godforsaken trip – after all, not only would it keep him away from Noctis, but it would also let Ignis keep an eye on him _._ At this point he wishes he’d made Noctis take shotgun and forced Prompto on Gladiolus instead. “I am perfectly _fine,_ Prompto,” he says pointedly. “Alright, what do we do now…I don’t suppose either of you have any understanding of a car’s inner workings.”

“I could look in the bonnet!” Prompto volunteers, bouncing up and down in his seat.

“No you will not,” Ignis declares, his voice piercing his excitement like a lance. “Gladiolus?”

“Bodyguard, not mechanic,” he replies flippantly, “and before you ask, I doubt Noct has any hidden talents either.”

It was worth a try, he supposes. “Well, I suppose we could always phone Cidney and ask her to come down here, correct?”

“Well, sure…” Prompto says, suddenly looking very sheepish. “Except the cell died about ten minutes ago.

Ignis isn’t quite sure if the pure rage that’s beginning to form in his core is being fuelled by his own fire magic or Prompto’s apparent stupidity. “Told you not to let him waste battery playing Chocobo Rescue Saga,” Gladiolus says smugly.

Well, Ignis thinks snidely, would _you_ have preferred Prompto’s ceaseless chatter? He doesn’t say that out loud either though. Apparently this trip is teaching him how to internalise sarcasm. Maybe that’s a good thing. He calms himself with a large intake of breath, looks back at Noctis (who is still sleeping), and then returns his gaze to his two team-mates. “Okay. We can deal with this. So, if the phone is out of charge, what do you two suggest now?”

“I thought you were the royal advisor.” Prompto points out helpfully. He’s like a puppy, Ignis decides – one of those yappy, annoying ones.

“Yeah, ain’t got a clue why you’re asking us,” Gladiolus adds. “I’m the brawn, not the brains of this operation.”

“And I’m the speed!”

Not that either of those traits have stopped them coming up with harebrained schemes before, he recalls dryly, but they’re right about one thing. He _is_ the brain, and actually, he’s coming up with something; something good.

“That’s perfectly fine. Seeing as you’re so proud of your speed Prompto,” Ignis says, beginning slow and deliberate as if talking to a child, “and considering we’re stuck in the middle of nowhere with only fauna for company, I believe it is in our best interests to send you off to go and get Cidney.”

Prompto’s expression quickly turns from cheerful to completely scandalised. “Huh!? Hold on, no way!”

“And why not? You’re clearly the most suited for the task given that you are ‘the speed’ in this team. You are also responsible for running the phone out of charge.”

“But the gas station is ages back!”

“Someone has to do it.”

“Don’t you think you’re being a little it harsh there, Ig?” Gladiolus interjects. “If he runs into a monster herd this weakling is toast.”

“Yeah! Wait, hey, Gladio-!"

“Then why don’t you go?" Ignis says, cutting off whatever idiotic comment Prompto is about to make. “You could easily take out anything in your path.”

“Are you kidding? I don’t have the stamina for that. I’d be out before I even made it halfway. I’m sticking around here to move the car anyway.”

Ignis suddenly has a terrible premonition of where this is going. It’s like a flash of a nightmare back to his childhood filled of fetching things for all three of his friends. Don’t say it Prompto, he thinks desperately, don’t say it, don’t _say it—_

“Then surely Ignis should go!”

Oh _hell no._ “Absolutely not. Pray tell, Prompto, will the day come when you stop with ideas that are almost as horrific as your hair cut?"

Prompto actually gasps at that, and for a brief moment Ignis wonders if he’s gone too far. That sentiment is quickly retracted, however, when Gladiolus decides to make his next comment. “It’s actually not a bad idea.” he says with a smirk. “When you think about it, you’re probably the most suited.”

Ignis almost says ‘I don’t believe it’ again, only just catching himself at the last second. He looks between the two of them and debates if it’s even worth fighting for his personal rights. If his calculations are correct, then by the time he manages to persuade one of them to go he could have gotten all the way to the petrol station, grabbed Cidney and driven all the way back out with her. It’s with this thought in mind that he steps out onto the smooth tarmac road, spirit finally broken. Prompto cheers and Ignis chooses to ignore him.

“Thanks for taking that one for the team,” Gladiolus grins as he also gets out of the car. “Me and Prompto will get this thing moved."

Ignis wishes he could feel as happy about this arrangement as they do. He looks at Noctis, who still has failed to awake, and momentarily worries about abandoning him in the middle of the wilderness with only Prompto’s influence to guide him. He has to remind himself that Noctis is an adult and will likely sleep through this entire debacle anyway before he can bring himself to leave.

As it turns out, following the road back is as easy as it looks. The only problem is the mind numbing boredom that comes with walking seven miles alone. It’s almost a blessing when one unsuspecting wolf like creature wanders his way and bares its teeth at him. At least by frying it he had something to do for five seconds.

He briefly considers hitchhiking at one, desperate point. It seems so appealing, especially when his legs are beginning to ache and he’s only twenty minutes into his journey. Unfortunately, his hopes and dreams are dashed when he remembers, yes, he is indeed still in the wilderness and no, not many other people decide to drive this way through. He wishes his phone was still alive, because even discounting the fact that he’d be able to ring Cidney if it was, a round of Chocobo Rescue Saga would certainly keep him entertained right now.

He’s not very entertaining by himself, as it turns out. By the half way point he’s almost wishing for Prompto back, because as childish as he is at least he’d give him something to _do._ It’s at this point he hits the hill, the one he vaguely remembers driving down at 15mph to keep everyone in the car alive. Bracing himself, he begins the upward trek, muttering words of encouragement such as, “you can do this Ignis,” and, “this is what the King was preparing you for all your life.”

The petrol station is a holy shining beacon of light when it finally appears on the horizon, a literal representation of the crystal in all of its glory. By the time he finally staggers into it his legs and lungs are burning in a similar fashion to the wolf he encountered earlier and he’s dying from breathlessness. Why he thought wearing a suit on this trip was a good idea is beyond him. His forehead is covered in a layer of uncomfortable sweat and he really could go for a bath or twenty at this point.

Cidney is under a dull looking white car when he approaches, the only visible parts of her body being her legs and her playfully tapping feet. Too out of breath to form actual words, Ignis clears his throat. It’s only after he does it that he realises how rude that actually sounds.

Any apparent rudeness goes unnoticed by Cidney, however, who slides out from under the car and looks up at him. Her face is slicked with oil smudges but she smiles brightly regardless. “Oh? Back so soon?”

Ignis opens his mouth, realises he’s still out of breath, and then doubles over momentarily to try and regain it. “Yes,” is all he manages, dragging one final huge breath in before he deems it acceptable to try again. “We have a slight issue with the car.”

Cidney wipes her hands on her legs before standing up and looking around expectantly. “Slight issue? Okay, so…where is it?”

Ignis has to give it a second to let his lungs stop burning. “A few miles from here. Our phone ran out of battery so I was sent out to come and get you.”

“Ohhhh,” Cidney says, nodding her head understandingly. “That’s why you’re alone and look like a tomato.”

It could be worse, Ignis tells himself. He could be covered in oil. “Yes. Could you come out and help us fix it by any chance?”

“Well, sure I can. I’ll have to charge a little extra to come out, though, ‘cause it’s more of my time.”

He’ll throw all the gil she wants at her if she drives him back and sorts the problem. “That’s fine; we’ll give you whatever you want. Can we please hurry?”

Cidney laughs at him before leading him to her truck. He must be paying a lot more than whoever the other car belongs to with the speed that she dropped it for him. “I’m warning you now, it won’t be cheap.”

“I’m sure we can afford it.” he says, opening the door and sitting in the passenger seat with a sigh of relief. If Prompto were here he’d probably be cheering excitedly about how Ignis is all alone with such a beautiful woman. But Ignis is _Ignis,_ and Cidney could be a forty year old man smoking a cigarette for all he cares as long as she gets them moving again.

Cidney drives beautifully, not hitting a single bump in the road and descending the hill with ease. Ignis had always considered himself a competent driver, but not even he could pull that one off. It’s almost humbling to speed back down the road it took him almost two hours to traverse. She chats aimlessly about cars while Ignis nods in what he thinks are the right places because in reality he doesn’t know a great deal about the sleek machine he commandeers on a regular basis.

Gladiolus has done an excellent job of shoving the car onto the grass beside the road. Why, when Cidney pulls up beside it Ignis even notes that Noctis is still sleeping _and_ perfectly upright. Prompto has apparently deemed himself in charge of what Ignis presumes must be brunch given the state of disarray surrounding the barbeque he’s set up. All in all, it isn't actually the disaster he expected to return to.

“Alright, give me some time and I’ll have your ride all fixed up!” Cidney declares, parking her truck on the grass and then freeing herself from her seatbelt. Ignis waits for her to get out and head around the back of her truck, presumably for tools, before he drags himself out of his own seat and over to his team-mates.

“You took your time,” Gladiolus says around a mouthful of behemoth bacon as he approaches. “Woah, you look wrecked. Bet you've got sweat patches under that blazer.”

He probably does but he’s not about to broadcast that to the world. Prompto offers him a plate of bacon which he almost declines, but then the seven mile walk catches up to him. He sits and takes the plate, deciding he’d rather be full of dubiously cooked Prompto bacon than empty. “Thank you.”

“Can’t believe he _still_ hasn’t woken up,” Prompto says absentmindedly as he takes his first bite of crispy goodness. For once Ignis doesn’t need clarification on who he’s talking about.

“I can,” he says at the exact same time as Gladiolus does. They share a knowing look before Ignis remembers he’s supposed to be irritated. “More to the point,” he continues alone, “ _I_ can’t believe you both sent me to the station alone.”

“Someone had to do it,” Gladiolus shrugs. “How was it?”

“Absolutely awful,” Ignis says miserably, fully aware that he’s hit Prompto levels of exaggeration and not caring in the slightest. “Seven miles of straight walking and I saw only _one_ living creature during that time.

“Judging by that look, I don’t think it’s alive anymore,” Prompto says.

“And then there was the _hill-"_

“I’m starting to think we should rename him Ig _nore_ for all the times he’s done that to you, Prompto,” Gladiolus interjects good-naturedly.

“Why do I even bother?” Ignis says, polishing off the rest of the bacon. “Did you save any for Noctis?”

“Do you _know_ how quick bacon gets cold?”

“Obviously not then. You can both cook again later then; I know I’m not doing it.”

The two of them share a grimace, but Ignis can hardly feel sympathy when they trekked him seven miles alone because they were too lazy to do it themselves.  He watches Cidney work on the car for a few minutes, hears Prompto say something about ‘I spy’, and then removes himself from the situation entirely because he is above playing childish games, thank you very much.

She says something about ‘spark plugs’ when he comes back over, and that apparently she’s dealt with the problem. That’s all well and good, Ignis thinks, because he doesn’t think he’s ever replaced a spark plug in his life and from what she’s saying, that’s probably not a good thing. “That’ll be about 3,500 gil” she says with a perky smile. “The extra 500 is for the car ride out here.”

Ignis thinks that price might be extortion, but he’s had enough already and it’s not even midday. “Thank you,” he says as he hands over the required amount. “Is it all ready to go?”

“You betcha. If you have anymore problems, try and get it to the next station _before_ it breaks down.”

“Duly noted,” Ignis says wryly. Prompto and Gladiolus wave her off as she grins and heads back to her truck. “Alright, pack up and let’s get moving.”

He sits in the driver’s seat as he waits for the two of them to shove the camping set back into the boot. Gladiolus apparently shoves too hard, shaking the car like a small earthquake and also finally managing to get Noctis awake. “Mmmm?” he says, voice muffled by sleep as he groggily opens his eyes. He blinks, looks around, and then stretches his arms out. “Why’ve we stopped?”

Ignis looks at him, then at Prompto and at Gladiolus, and sighs. “No reason,” he says flippantly, turning the key in the ignition. It roars to life, thank the crystal. “We’re leaving now, actually.”

Noctis looks vaguely confused, but then seemingly accepts it and shrugs. Ignis is about to drive away, when he suddenly speaks up again. “Oh, wait,”

Ignis holds his breath. He has no wish of recounting the story of his long and arduous journey across the wild lands. Don’t ask further Noctis, he thinks, don’t do it…

“Has anyone got the phone? If we’re going to be driving for hours, I’m going to jump ahead in Chocobo Rescue Saga.”

He breathes out. “It’s out of battery. We’ll charge it when we can.”


End file.
